Lyrical
by Bullshifters
Summary: Peeta watched the sun come up over the hills, knowing that at dawn he would be hanged for the murder of his wife and children. Song: The Hanging Tree. Interpreted meaning in relation to the characters Peeta and Katniss, set after the events of the book. Pairing: Very loosely Peeta/Katniss. Dark themes and mentions of blood. Character death (plot twist upon reading) .


**Hello all, here's a fic regarding the song 'The Hanging Tree' from the movie.  
I never really understood the lyrics meaning in regards to the story, so I made up my own movie.**

 **It is not AU, it is as close to canon as possible and I also kept the children of Peeta and Katniss as in the book  
I wouldn't exactly say Katniss/Peeta pairing but they are the main characters so...**

 **There is character death and some dark content/blood, and there is a twist so keep reading til the end to discover it!  
I do not own the Hunger Games or the song 'The Hanging Tree'.  
**

* * *

 _Are you, are you_  
 _Coming to the tree_

The silhouette of the man was dark against the darker sky. Branches swayed and the tree was a hulking mass against the starry clean sky. It was past midnight, and Peeta was staring numbly out into the distance, his slightly greasy and sweaty hair sticking to his forehead. Beyond he could see the light of his house, or was what once was his, and a group of men and women shouting angrily into the night. Their voices carried over to him, and whispered cruel things in his ear.

 _Where they strung up a man_  
 _They say who murdered three_.

The rope around Peeta's neck seemed to tighten at every breath. He gulped in the cold weat air and turned away from the messy scene on his porch. The light shone dimly into the countryside, the only light for a mile. However when the sun came up, and that porch light was switched off, he knew his fate was sealed.  
He would be hanged at dawn, from the tree that hadn't been used since the rebellion.

 _Strange things did happen here_  
 _No stranger would it be_  
 _If we met at midnight_  
 _In the hanging tree._

Katniss' voice echoed in his head and he sighed and leaned again the trunk, its prickly bark digging into the small of his back. He tuned out her voice for a while before finally answering.  
'I can't get the images out of my head', was all he said simply.  
It was true, Peeta was being plagued by the pictures of his children lying maimed and lifeless on his kitchen floor, a large knife protruding from one, the other staring glassily at nothing.  
Two lifeless dolls.

 _Are you, are you_  
 _Coming to the tree_

He could have stopped this from happening he knew, and now the villagers were planning his demise. He deserved death he knew that, but he wished with all his being that he could return to the scene and rewind time. However, every time he blinked open his eyes as he reluctantly slipped in and out of a doze, the rough callous material of the rope around his neck brought him plunging to reality.

 _Where the dead man called out_  
 _For his love to flee._

Katniss sighed in the back of his head. Was it a disappointed sigh or a wistful one? The townsfolk of District 12 had heard ruckus coming from the primrose-decorated house at the bottom of the lane of the winner's quarter. The screams drew them in and what they discovered sent them reeling in horror. The windows were smashed and door forced inwards.  
Blood.  
So much.  
Peeta among the mess, 3 gone or a bloody mess on the floor.

 _Strange things did happen here_  
 _No stranger would it be_  
 _If we met at midnight_  
 _In the hanging tree._

Peeta watched ruefully as the first slips of light began to appear over the mountains. The people of his town, his neighbours and friends had finally decided on a solution. You could not just kill your wife and child and get away with it. There had to be punishment, there had to be redemption.  
Children, for Christ sakes.  
Only 13 and 10, forcefully ripped from their lives, hesitantly peaceful in the aftermath of the rebellion. These children had not known the Games or hunger, but of course these things still lived on in their parents.  
How could they let victors, wracked by guilt and the pain of memories live with children?  
But they were their parents…  
These trains of thoughts entered one neighbour's ear, to only exit into another's as they sat all night speaking about the tragedy that had taken place.

 _Are you, are you_  
 _Coming to the tree_

The father watched as the people exited his house and started digging his children's graves. Their blood was still soaked into Peeta's collar and trousers, their essence saturated his socks and pooling in his shoes. Here, for a slight moment, the numbness lifted like a curtain and he allowed himself be wracked by sobs. He looked away painfully as their small bodies were dumped into the crass hole.  
Dear God he loved them, how could he have let his past catch up and swallow them whole.

 _Wear a necklace of hope,_  
 _Side by side with me._

Katniss, his wife, had stayed quiet and he heard no more of her whispers swirling in his brain.  
It really was brightening now.  
It was almost time.

 _Strange things did happen here_  
 _No stranger would it be_  
 _If we met at midnight_  
 _In the hanging tree._

In his darker moments before the sun came up, the Hunger Games came back to him. Not the beautiful years with his wife, not his charming childhood in the bakery, not the love he felt for his children. Not even the blood-soaked, mud-caked years of the rebellion. Just the pure terror of stalking and being stalked, the helplessness of being entertainment and the morbid satisfaction of the cannons firing at nightfall.

 _Are you, are you_  
 _Coming to the tree_

Peeta finally listened to the whispering of Katniss.  
'Why? Why did you do that?'  
The painful reality was drawing close, he could see the villagers preparing.  
'I did it because I love you Katniss', he answered, his voice hoarse.  
He lifted his head from the dewy grass and up into the branches. The foliage was dark and full, but he could see the girl's eyes staring back at him.  
She had been perching there for hours, ever since the people had left him tied up and perching on his tip toes in order to breath.  
She had her hand on the rope that kept him trapped and her eyes pleaded and she asked one more time the thing she had been begging all night.  
'Let me cut you free. Peeta, please'

 _Where I told you to run,_  
 _So we'd both be free._

Peeta shook his head for a final time.  
'You're being hanged for the murder of three people, I'm still alive'  
'They won't change their minds, children are dead'  
The harshness of his raspy words silenced her. She tapped her tongue to her teeth and narrowed her eyes. She knew all too well that there was a guard standing nearby keeping watch, so cutting him loose would only result in the shooting of them both.

 _Strange things did happen here_  
 _No stranger would it be_  
 _If we met at midnight_  
 _In the hanging tree._

'Run away, Katniss. Wash your hands of this'  
'Stop it', she whispered fiercely, her hand tugging on her braid. The heaviness in her chest was worsening with each second, the situation only becoming more real.  
Katniss was quiet for a few moments, before whispering into the back of his hair the question that had burned on her tongue all night.  
'Why did you take the blame Peeta?'

 _Are you, are you_  
 _Coming to the tree_

Peeta was shovelling in the field, working hard and breaking a sweat in the late afternoon heat. His blond hair had lightened in the sun, and now as summer was drawing to a close he was quickly harvesting the produce that had sprung up. He had been working a few hours when he stood and dusted himself off, satisfied with the day's work. He rounded the wheelbarrow into the room outside the pantry, and hurriedly shoved all the food into the various nooks and crannies.  
He slammed the door and jogged into the house, skirting into the kitchen where he heard the excited chatter of his children. Their daughter was bickering with her younger brother, catching him by the arm as he ran past her. Katniss seemed unaware to their play and was chopping up carrots for the pot boiling on the stove.  
Peeta surveyed the scene and smiled.

 _Where they strung up a man_  
 _They say who murdered three._

Peeta rushed forward to tickle his children and bear hug them. His son rushed forward, eager for the attention and his older daughter shied away, getting to her awkward age.  
'Her Hunger Game age', the thought briefly entered and exited his mind.  
Katniss continued, as usual silent to the commotions going on in the kitchen.  
'Daddy, let me show you something I found in the old cupboard in school today', his son blabbed, as he ran headfirst out the door to his backpack in the hall. His sister rolled her eyes and gave her dad a small hug as he ruffled her hair. She grimaced and moved it back into place.  
He grinned, 'Like her mother' he said aloud, but heard nothing back except the chopping from beside him. Peeta furrowed his brow before getting distracted by his son bundling into the kitchen.  
'Lookie here', he exclaimed, brandishing a wooden sword.

 _Strange things did happen here_  
 _No stranger would it be_  
 _If we met at midnight_  
 _In the hanging tree._

The pot was bubbling over.  
Peeta turned too late, and the knife his wife had been holding sailed over his shoulder and into his daughter's back, an O of surprise forming on her face. The force propelled her forward and Peeta couldn't catch her as she collided with the hard kitchen floor. The sickening crack of her head and the blood spurting from the two wounds made his son scream.  
Flashbacks sent Peeta surging backwards in time. By the time he came back to the present, is son was also a mangled empty case on his kitchen floor.  
Katniss dropped the knife and screamed.

 _Are you, are you_  
 _Coming to the tree_

'I couldn't stop myself', Katniss said, her voice dead and wooden, 'all I could see was Cato and Clove. They were going to kill you, I couldn't… I didn't…'  
She trailed off. The sun was well and truly up, its heat casting a yellow glow over Peeta's grief torn face.  
'And I couldn't stop it', he murmured, 'I were both too stuck in the Hunger Games. We both were. I feel as much to blame.'

 _Where the dead man called out_  
 _For his love to flee._

'Please run' He said finally, his eyes closing. Katniss looked at the shadows his eyelashes made over his angular cheeks. 'Please, that is the only thing that will give me peace'

'No', she said angrily, but the villagers were already making their way up the hill. She guiltily felt the muscles in her legs tense, ready to run.  
'I took the blame because I couldn't stand if I lost you too'  
'Neither could I'  
'Yes, you could Katniss'  
The pause was pregnant and painful. They were drawing closer, their silence more terrifying than their angry exclaims from earlier. But Peeta stared defiantly and definitely at the approaching mob, feeling a sense of peace and calm awash him. He felt a small relieved smile tug at the corner of his mouth as he heard the branches shift above him, knowing she was gone.

 _Strange things did happen here_  
 _No stranger would it be_  
 _If we met at midnight_  
 _In the hanging tree._

Katniss didn't watch as Peeta's breath was stolen from him, she only whispered her apologies to the wind and howled her grief when she had sprinted far enough.  
The hanging tree left far behind, she sat sobbing and pounding at the ground, tearing fistfuls of grass.

The hanging tree, the fallen hero, the guiltless martyr.  
Almost lyrical, don't you think?

* * *

 **That's it!**

 **Hope you enjoyed the twist of the reverse roles of the murder of the children!**

 **Please leave a review if you liked it or would like more fics about the HG :)**


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